Happy birthday Fenton

Ack! Can you believe it? One year? One year!?! It blows my mind. It was not that long ago that I was even pregnant. And now I have a one year old? Too soon. Too fast!

I still often miss the sweet tiny baby I once held; the little, dependent cuddle bug that was definitely our "easy baby." But only for a second. Because now he has turned into an awesome one year old who is infinitely happy, adores his brother and sister, and who will one day do great things.

Damon and I often discuss the kids and what makes them unique, and I think we pretty much agree that it breaks down into something like this:
Adelaide: My way or the highway
Kestian: Why? When? Where? How? Why not? How do you spell that?
Fenton: Don't worry, be happy

We know that all our children will do great things with their skills and personalities. Adelaide will be a teacher/cheerleader/mother/fencing star dressed only in pink dresses and fun floppy hats. Kestian will be a paleontologist, naming new found dinosaurs things like Runaroundasaurus. Fenton - it may be too soon to tell, but he has this charisma about him that Damon has already declared that he will be a "leader of men." I don't doubt it. Whatever he grows up as, he will bring the world singing along with him.

So happy birthday, my littlest one. I can honestly say that I love all my children, and I love them in different ways, but still each as much as the other. But today is Fenton's day, and every time I breathe in that unmistakable baby smell (that spot right above his ears), I'm reminded how I'm glad to have the privilege of getting to love him as well.

Eggtastic

Splitting hairs

Before...

After...

Donated...

Totally tubular

Yesterday, Fenton had tubes put in his ears to hopefully help with all his ear infection problems. It all went smoothly, not counting the hour we had to wait in the waiting room before we got called back. Trying to keep a mobile, hungry, grumpy baby occupied was a little bit of a challenge, but even that wasn't horrible.

Once we went back, we were probably all done within an hour. And once home, he slept about 3 hours, and then was back to business as usual.

Before...

After...

Back to fun!

Well, if you have something to say...

Let me set the scene for you:

We just get home from Fazoli's (kids night and all). Adelaide is grumpy. Adelaide is not listening and talking back. Adelaide goes to time out. Fenton decides he needs to give her a talking to...

A love of learning

Damon and I have always valued education. Obviously. Both for ourselves and for our kids. We both have advanced degrees and enjoy learning things every day. We only hope that we can foster that same love of learning in our kids. In fact, I will think that I have succeeded as a parent if my children grow up to be good people, kind people, and well-thinking people. I'm not talking about "smart" - it's not about "smartness" but more about the ability to think logically, methodically, from idea to consequence. Knowing a bunch of facts that can be recanted on command may seem smart, but taking those facts and ideas and applying them to changing circumstances, to me, is the true sign of intelligence.

Now that the kids are in school, albeit just kindergarten, they are already revealing their true intelligent nature. So far, the kids really do enjoy school, are constantly asking us a ton of questions, and are always learning. The expression that kids minds are like sponges is more true than you may realize. We are constantly amazed at what the kids pick up after one casual mention, at how they can listen to something and take it to a logical conclusion (although sometimes perhaps a bit inaccurate - like the idea that there are whales living in the Kentucky River), at how they can't seem to get enough.

What I also just adore about the kids is that, for them, it is just what it is. They do not think anything of it. In fact, they very casually mentioned to us recently that they get to use the Orange Folders in their class. Oh, of course, the Orange Folders! What the hell is an Orange Folder? Come to find out it is filled with extra things for the kids to work on, like crossword puzzles and other activities, for when they finish with their other assignments. According to them, there are only about 5-6 people (including them) in the class that get to use these folders. Color me impressed. Orange impressed. But of course, the kids never thought to mention it to us. Ever. I don't know how it ever even came up. So it goes like that. The kids love learning, and have no idea how awesome that is.

As a result, Damon has decided to take it to the next level. He's gone out and bought all these workbooks that the kids can work on.


And the kids love them. In fact, they beg us to let them work on them. So when they blew through all the K level books, we bought 1st grade level. Now they are into 3rd grade level. I keep saying to the kids that they will be ready for 3rd grade by the time they start 1st grade. In Kindergarten, the kids are learning basic addition ("plusing" as Adelaide calls it) and some subtraction. At home, they are working on carrying/borrowing numbers from other columns, and basic multiplication. Next year we figure we'll start them on calculus.



And it's not just math. The kids are really rockin' the reading and phonics. They can read the directions in their workbooks, and then go and write out the sentences or whatever they are supposed to do accordingly. They are really good at sounding out words and with enough patience can figure out most words they come across.

Of course, some of their responses are debatable...

So they are off to an awesome start, and it's ultimately probably not sustainable at this rate. I joke about them being ready for 3rd grade, but soon there will be things they are learning that require a broader background and foundation that only develops over time. But for as long as they love learning new things, we are happy to oblige.

Now we don't have any goals of trying to advance them through school, skipping grades here and there. We feel it's important for them to remain with their peers, as there are social and maturity considerations. But we feel it's also important to get them set up with a good foundation. Teachers' views of children (Bobby is so smart! Sara is so slow!) whether intentional or not, can carry over during the year and from grade to grade. I'm not saying teachers do anything to hold kids back or play favorites (perhaps, though, some do) - as they can be quite realistically in touch with their student's abilities - but on the same note, their impressions can sway their interactions and possibly affect kids' paths in school. Our hope, our plan, is to empower our kids to build their own foundation in the classroom that will carry them forward, whether a teacher recognizes their abilities or not. And I'd say they are off to a good start.

Fenton Foto Fun

We never get around much to taking the kids in for a professional photo shoot. We are too busy. We are too cheap. And I figure I take enough pics anyways. So we leave it to the mercy of whomever comes in to the school or daycare, and are usually happy with what we get.

These are Fenton's pics from a few weeks ago. Although he needs another haircut already, he's totally adorable!

And now back to our regular programming...

Hello? Oh, HI! It's me, Laura! Switchin' gears here to some fun stuff!!!

This weekend the Twins Club had a party, including an Easter egg hunt. We had a good time...so good that as we were leaving, Damon commented "Well, that wasn't stressful."

Arts and crafts...which almost held their attention

Huntin' eggs

Mmmm...chocolate

The kids decorated their own cookies...some didn't even lick the knives

Goin' through the loot

Adelaide was one of the winners who guessed closest to the correct amount of jelly beans in a cup (and won the jelly beans and cup)

Kestian didn't

Recently

I went and deleted the last post; it has reached its audience.

I'm sorry for freaking a bunch of readers out, but the fact is that ANY website you visit gets that sort of information. Welcome to the internet!

Anyway, it has been a bit deep lately around here, so let's lighten the mood with a 'kids say the fucking goddamnedest things" story! Adelaide was in timeout and screamed at me "You are the meanest father EVER." What with my recent blog post, I had to disagree. Amirite? Who is with me? What, no one? Nothing?

Fathers

This post is a little different than the other ones. I have my reasons.

I will often say that I am jealous of my children. Not for the toys they have, not for the good and balanced meals they eat, not for their opportunities to succeed, and not for great names. Mainly I am jealous because my children have a father.

I do not.

Why is this so? If you do not know (and I assure you, my children do), my own father left when I was 12, though he was far gone emotionally before that. Marriages do fail and couples do separate and divorce, but that does not preclude fathers from being a part of their children’s lives and providing for their wellbeing. Many children of divorce have relationships with both their parents who both look after them and support them. That was not the case with my father.

Perhaps it was the passing of his father that spurned him to be like that? Maybe the failure of the marriage made him not want anything to do with the children? Maybe the increased alcohol use and obvious cocaine habit that he unsuccessfully tried to hide made him a little off in the head? Maybe it was his utter failure in his career?

When I tuck my children in at night I look at them and see many things, but the main thing I see in them is an indelible connection between me and them that nothing, NOTHING, could ever come between. I look at them and see meaning. I look at them and think about all the stress they cause and all the frustration they bring and all the things I’ve had to give up and all the sacrifices I’ve had to make and I think how I do all these things for them willingly and gladly. WILLINGLY and GLADLY.

Though he can be a hugely successful paleontologist who gets into the national academy at 35, I really think that I will have succeeded with Kestian if he grows up to be a good man. I know he will be. I’ll be there to see him the entire way, to see what he chooses in life, to see what type of man he turns into. There is absolutely NOTHING that could keep me from that.

And this is what I do not understand. How could a man not be there for his child that is growing up? How could a man not want to help his child learn to be an adult, learn what life is like, and be there for times when it bad? How could a man refuse to financially support his own child? How could a man go so far out of his way to not be in his child’s life or support his child that it only seems personal?

This, truly, isn’t bitterness talking. I just find it bizarre and abhorrent that someone could purposefully be like that. If I believed in fairy tales I would say that such a person had no soul.

But the truth is that my own father wasn’t soulless, but instead was just a cowardly little man who loves nobody, not even himself. Sure, he may think he does, but when I look at my children, I know that there is no way I could love myself if I intentionally harmed and disowned them.

I do not, however, wish harm on my father, since he meted out his own punishment a long time ago, and now he must live with it. He will never know his son (I haven’t spoken to him in over 20 years and no attempts have been made). He will never see his grandchildren, and they know fully what type of person he is. No matter how many people are around him, no matter if he is married to someone who is the same age as my wife, no matter how he may try to fill his life with diversions and superficial trappings of happiness, he will still be alone and will ultimately die alone.

And I will say good riddance.

Easy as 1...2...3

Census: Here and Sea

The kids had their hearing checked before they went to school, and they passed (apparently they just choose to ignore us). What the test doesn’t do (or at least what they don’t tell us) is see if the kids have better than normal hearing, be it for being able to pick up differences in things or the ability to hear things that are too soft for others to hear. This is an important distinction, because I know that Kestian can hear us a couple rooms away (though this could be because he just listens to see if he can participate), but I don’t know if they can hear the differences between notes and can match them.

I know that when I listen to music I automatically can pick out and hear each individual instrument (orchestras excepted, obviously), but I have no idea if that is because of practice, interest, or musical training. Seriously, I could not tell you if I could do that when I was a kid much like I really can not remember not being able to read (even though I remember when I wasn’t able to read, I just can’t remember not being able to read then). I know picking out minor keys and chord changes in songs is definitely a function of being a hobbyist musician, but how much was I just naturally able to do? And how much of that is passed on to the kids.

Hopefully they get some from my genes, because they may also get some from their mother. Laura’s grandfather George Orr died in World War II when her father was young (probably too young to remember him), but from all accounts (and we actually have quite a bit, despite her grandmother never talking about him) he was a gifted musician who could play the piano pretty much by ear.

George Orr, circa 1940

Damn, that would be awesome if the kids could do that, but we don’t have a piano (oh, I will buy one and an organ when I can) and they are probably too young for me to teach them mandolin (I’ve started to try, but it doesn’t grab their interest enough, and their little fingers have trouble even with open chords). Adelaide does, however, have an obsession with my ukulele (they have their own, but theirs don’t hold their tune at all so they borrow mine) and I’ve started to explain the basics of chords to them (the very basics, though I wish their music class at school would do more).

When we were having fun with genetic traits the other day, I pulled up some stuff for color blindness to see if they are and, lo and behold, they are not! Yeah, I was sure they weren’t, since they do stuff with colors and drawing and coloring all the time and can see all the differences (they were fascinated by the color wheel when I explained it to them; why haven’t they had that in art yet?), but I just wanted to see. Here is a link to a thing to test to see if YOU are color blind.

But I’ve always found color vision interesting since my left eye sees more blue and my right eye sees more red (not a hug amount of difference, but one that I notice if I close eyes and switch them). But color blindness is just one thing, how much visual acuity for color do the kids have? I haven’t had them do this online hue test yet (it is a bit much and I doubt they’d find it interesting since it takes a few minutes and is just switching colors around), but I’ve done it and have scored a perfect on it (I rock at colors!).

Anyway, take the color tests on the links, see if you can see colors like others do, and have a good Ruination Day everyone!

More fun with genetics

Last time when we checked in with the Orsetti family, we were discussing some fun genetic traits, like differences in palms and ears. Today we are back with the Orsettis to talk about some even more fun traits. Traits that you may or may not have thought were genetically based, or even ever thought about. (Note: Fenton is exempt from most of this analysis until he's old enough to cooperate.)

Hitchhiker's Thumb

Let's start with thumbs. You can have a "regular" thumb, or a "hitchhiker's" thumb. (Yeah, I never thought about it much either, but I do live with someone who likes genetics...) Damon and Adelaide have the more straight thumbs, whereas Kestian, Fenton, and I have the more curved (or "hitchhiker's" thumb):

Personally, I just don't think they are trying.

Folding Hands

Now here's something that will blow your mind. The way you fold your hands may be genetically based. Quick: Without thinking about it, fold your hands together like you are about to pray. Which thumb is on top? Now switch your fingers so the other thumb is on top. Doesn't it feel all icky and uncomfortable? Yeah, there may be a genetic basis that causes you to do that. For us Orsettis, we are once again a mixed bag. Kestian, Damon and I have our left thumb on top; Adelaide has her right.

Apparently, the same goes for how you cross your arms. It is personally absolutely impossible, unless I have a spotter, to cross my arms any way other than this (not like my children ever see me this way...)


Rolled Tongue

This is an easy one. How many of you can roll your tongues? Yeah, me neither. But two people in our family can!


Don't make fun! We are really trying here!

Pokey Lip

I have no other term for this next one other than what we call it in our house: pokey lip. It's some weird "ability" to, well, point with your lip. I'm not really going to try to explain it, so here's the pictures. Damon and Adelaide can, Kestian and I can't (and yes, once again, we are trying in these pictures...).

Of course, Damon can also do "double pokey lip":


It wouldn't be Orsetti Fun if I didn't include a quick little table of all of our weirdness...

Interestingly (or not?), the "twins" share the least amount of traits in common (1). Damon shares 3 traits in common each with Kestian and Adelaide. I share 2 with Adelaide, and 5 with Kestian. Funny, because in our house Kestian = "Little Blonde Damon."